


(Don't) Break It

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Rape, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: For the kinkmeme prompt: Should have the line "Look me in the eye while I'm fucking you."





	

He's feeling irritable and doesn't know why. It's maddening. Body thrumming with impatience, he shifts on the chair even if it's not the reason for his discomfort. He drums his fingernails on the desk, trying to think of a way to relax.

That's when Newt Scamander stumbles through his door.

Goldstein's still clinging to his arm as he looks around the room, bewildered. The ex-auror starts on her obviously rehearsed speech, introducing the man, something about a case, and magical creatures. But Scamander is looking at the cheap carpet, the books on the shelf -- anywhere except at Graves, acting like he's not even in the room.

His red curls are hooded over most of his features, and if only he would look back then Graves would know what his eye color is. He's biting his lip, fidgeting, not even bothering to make a show of not seeming guilty. At first, Graves assumes it's just another junkie who's Floo'ed one too many times. But when Scamander finally lifts his head and stares at him, revealing knowing green eyes that betray his youthful appearance, Graves freezes.

"Hello," Scamander says in a soft, heavily-accented voice, and then his gaze slides away again. Something untwists inside Graves then. He smiles.

"Stop," he says, raising a hand and quieting Goldstein mid-ramble.

"I'll take it from here. Good work, Miss Goldstein, I'll send in a good word to Madame President." She grins as if he's just handed her a medal, and nods frantically before taking off.

When the door is closed, Scamander shuffles awkwardly, staring at his feet.

Graves doesn't stand. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "I'm going to tell you now, Mr. Scamander, that this can only go two ways. Option one is I throw you into a jail cell and confiscate your case and everything that's in it. Anything that resists is eliminated." Scamander's grip tightens on his case.

"But they're--"

"Option two, I don't offer to just anyone. In fact, I'm making an exception just for you." Confusion quickly replaces indignance on the younger man's face. Graves almost feels sorry for him. To have survived this long in the world while wearing your heart on your sleeve is quite uncommon.

What a shame he had to end up here.

"You see, I've had a busy day, and having you here is, frankly, wasting my time. I could be on a case right now, saving lives and keeping murderers off the street, but instead I'm here dealing with a two-bit daisy who decided, foolishly might I add, that he could sidestep the law. Even worse, this was a premeditated act; you were fully aware that what you're doing is illegal, but you did it anyway."

Scamander bites his lip, visibly cringing. His hunch is getting more pronounced the longer he stands there, a halfhearted attempt to conceal himself as much as possible. It's far too late for any of that now.

"What's the second option?"

"Come over here and make it worth my while, and I'll bury all charges."

Scamander looks up in bewilderment.

"What?" he says, suddenly breathless. Graves' expression remains unchanged and continues sitting still, while Scamander continues to sputter. His skin tone has taken on a rosy color and Graves appreciatively watches the flush traveling up his neck.

"I believe I made my intentions clear."

"But that's extortion -- it's blackmail, it's--"

"Jailtime it is, then," he interrupts, making a show of getting to his feet. But Scamander drops the case, and raises his trembling hands.

"No!" he practically shouts, then retreats into himself again. "I'll do it, but..." His brows are furrowed and his eyes are shining, and he seems surprised by what he just said.

"You're a virgin," Graves says, incredulous. This man is a gift that keeps on giving. Scamander swipes a hand over his eyes and nods. 

"I find that highly suspicious considering how perfect your lips look for sucking cock."

He smiles, amused, at the roundness of Scamander's eyes. Clearly no one has told him that before. He swallows and turns his head, unmoving. There's a vast space and a poorly-made rug still separating them. Graves is getting impatient.

"Well," he drawls, pushing his chair back from the desk. He spreads his legs, the folds of his trousers un-creasing while Scamander gapes helplessly. "I've already adjusted my expectations accordingly. Now come here."

Scamander walks over like there's lead in his shoes. As he rounds the desk, Graves unzips, freeing his achingly swollen cock. There's already a sheen at the tip, pre-come gathered at the slit, which he swipes off.

After what seems like an eternity, Scamander falls to his knees. He peers up at Graves, who nods. Scamander then takes to staring at his cock with an animal-like skittishness. He looks so innocent, and Graves wants to pat his head.

Instead, he grips Scamander's hair tight and hauls him forward. "Suck."

There's a muffled noise of surprise, but Graves shuts his eyes and exhales appreciatively at the warm heat that envelops his cock. He can feel Scamander's frantic breaths around him and relaxes his grip.

Finally, the man between his legs understands what he's supposed to do, and slowly bobs up and down, moistening Graves' cock. Occasionally his teeth catch against skin, but it's decent as far as blowjobs go. The visuals more than make up for it.

He makes a move to stroke the underside of Scamander's jaw, brushing against the saliva trickling down his stretched lips. The other male stares determinedly straight ahead but there are tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. A gag is suppressed every time the head nudges the back of his throat. It's almost endearing, but the lack of experience is going to make Graves soft if they keep at this.

He hisses and grabs hold of the red curls, making Scamander withdraw with a gasp.

"You'll have to improve your negotiation technique if you plan to travel the world, Mr. Scamander. Clothes off." 

The man pushes himself to his feet and hurriedly slides off his blue coat. He clearly wants to be done with this as soon as possible, but Graves knows better. He will keep him here however long he wants, depending on what noises he can wrangle out of him.

Scamander's shaking hands are trying and failing to unbuckle his belt. Graves sighs in boredom.

"On second thought, I rather like the boots, so you can keep those on." He vanishes the rest of Scamander's clothes away, and the former reacts with a wounded noise. It's not what Graves expected: his pale body is covered head to toe in scars and remnants of even whiter slashes. There are burn marks here and there, marring an otherwise fine figure. He's completely soft.

And he has freckles. How quaint.

Graves's fingernails are digging into his palms as he surveys him, getting increasingly aroused by the anticipation. He can't wait to fold and break him, to see the ripple of muscles on his back as he bends Scamander over every available surface and takes him again and again.

Scamander stares at Graves' hardening cock.

"I'm waiting."

He takes a moment before climbing onto Graves' lap, clinging to the lapels of his coat with shaky fingers, and patiently adjusts himself until he's kneeling, squeezed against the arms of the chair, over Graves' legs. His slender body hovers over a waiting cock. 

Scamander grips the chair's arms tightly. He jumps when Graves' cock accidentally brushes against the inside of his thigh. His head is bowed low but his lips are a thin, quivering line and Graves almost wants to fuck his mouth again for good measure.

"Well?" he says, unimpressed.

"I'm -- I'm not lubricated properly." Trust a zoologist to be overly-clinical. Graves swears and flicks his wand again. The effect is immediate: Scamander gasps, shuddering so violently that the head of Graves' cock nudges against his hole. 

"There," he says tightly, biting back a noise of pleasure. "Happy?

"...Thank you." Upon hearing that, Graves pauses. Everything about this man is so innocuous, and he's about to obliterate it.

He can hardly wait.

He looks expectantly at the terrified man on his lap. Scamander takes a deep breath before beginning his slow descent. Drinking in the sight before him, Graves straightens in his seat. There's a silent gasp upon the slow invasion of Graves' cock, his features crumpled in pain.

When Scamander is fully seated, he's perspiring profusely and biting his lips, strained noises escaping through gritted teeth. Graves touches his cheek, and draws back a finger moist with tears.

"I could banish the pain, but I won't," he says in a gentle tone. "You see, I think you need to be taught a lesson. Things are different here, and you'll come to understand that we at America believe that the law should be upheld and punishment doled out as we see fit. Are you a criminal, Mr. Scamander?"

It's amazing how the man still won't look at him, even upon being stuffed full of cock.

"Answer me."

"Yes," Scamander whispers, voice quavering.

"So don't you think your punishment is well-deserved?"

"If that's the reasoning you're using to justify assault, Mr. Graves, then I suppose I really don't have any say in the matter."

Graves grabs his wrists in a vice-grip, ignoring Scamander's startled cry. He pulls him closer until their noses are nearly touching, teeth bared in a snarl. "You think this is assault? Are you not the one who got on your knees, sucked my cock and then stuck it up your ass? I gave you a choice. I haven't even touched you. And look how much you're enjoying it."

Scamander looks down in horror, realizing that his own cock has gone stiff.

"You're a virgin no longer," he says, with a thrust of his hips to emphasize the point. The resounding squeak is music to his ears. "Enough with the doe eyes already and fucking move."

The man does what he's told, at least. Graves is unused to someone being so unerringly pliant, so he watches with fascination as Scamander's eyes turn glassy. How much further into his shell could he possibly retreat into, he wonders. Scamander hauls himself on his knees and then sinks halfway down again. He does it several times; there's clear hesitance on his part to prevent from getting buried to the hilt.

That simply won't do.

He grips the other male by the hips. They're bony, not the sort of figure you'd expect from someone who handles animals regularly. But the skin is marked with cuts that resemble tallies and Graves wants to add his own to that list.

"If I wanted to fuck someone with the enthusiasm of a flobberworm I would've gone to the local creep joint."

Scamander glares at him, a singular act of defiance. "You have to teach me how."

So he does. He beckons Scamander upward, and the man immediately obeys, positioning himself on his knees again. Graves' cock slides free with a wet noise but he jams Scamander down onto it again, elated when the other male throws his head back with a loud cry.

"You feel that?" Cementing his grip on Scamander's waist, he forcibly rocks him forward. The pressure felt around his cock has increased considerably, and Scamander clearly senses it too, a high-pitched moan escaping him. He's fighting to keep calm, pretending he's not being torn apart from the inside out.

"Hit that spot and it's a win for both of us. Pretty simple, yes?"

"Yes," Scamander hisses. Graves pointedly ignores the glare and signals for him to continue. Scamander proves to be a fast learner. Graves allows himself an audible groan as the redhead impales himself on his cock, trying to muting his pain with movement. He's tight, tighter than expected, but what's most surprising is how easily tamed he turned out to be.

"Good enough," Graves says with a smile.

He knocks him to the floor, and Scamander only has time to widen his eyes before Graves clambers over him and slips back into his hole.

"Oh, _God_ ," he whimpers in that devastating accent. It spikes a triumphant sensation in Graves, and he thrusts harder and then with one hand pins Scamander's wrists above his head. To think this naive foreigner thought he was coming to the greatest country in the world for a little frolick, only to end up on his back trading his virginity to a stranger.

"Spread your damn legs," he snarls. Twitching, the man beneath him quickly does as he's told. Pale thighs loosen around his knees, and Graves ignores the rug scraping against his trousers as he drives himself into Scamander relentlessly, body enveloped around his. 

"Please, not so rough," Scamander whispers. The corners of Graves lips quirk upward. Until now, he's trying to beg. Fighting to appeal to his emotions. Graves scoffs. He cannot even begin to understand the inner machinations of this man's mind.

Naturally, that only makes him thrust more forcefully. Scamander's eyes squeeze shut and he screams.

"Mr. Scamander, it's rude not to look someone in the eye while they're fucking you," he murmurs directly into his ear, but there's no response. The body beneath his has gone limp, and he stops for a moment and lifts himself onto his elbows. Bleary, reddened eyes stare somewhere over his shoulder.

"Look at me," he taunts, burying himself deep enough to send a tremor through Scamander's body. His gaze focuses on Graves. The blue of his eyes now icy and devoid of life.

"If you don't make this worth my while, I will let every auror in this department have their turn with you, mark my words. I'm going to turn you into a proper whore if you don't behave."

"Don't," he sobs. Now completely pliant and willing, he does nothing to stop Graves from grabbing his ankle and hoisting it over his shoulder. From their new position, he fucks Scamander languidly, and smirks at the sight of the younger man's bobbing, hardened cock.

"See? You're loving this." Feeling generous, he grabs hold of Scamander's length. The reaction is immediate and pathetic, the other male coming with a surprised yell. 

"Scream all you want. The whole of MACUSA won't mind hearing you." He follows soon after, the oncoming orgasm ripping through his body as he fills Scamander up, ignoring the whines of protest as he pulls out none too gently.

Graves stands up, tucks himself back in. He smooths his clothes, and hauls the other to his feet. Scamander teeters in place, standing oddly. He can't help but admire his handiwork. It's been a while since he's wrecked something so beautiful, and Scamander was meant to be ruined -- his current state proves it. His gaze is half-lidded, but finally, he's looking Graves in the eye. 

Impatiently, Graves spins him around and, with a hand on his nape, starts pushing him toward the door. There are angry red marks on his back, but he's sure that at this point, carpet burn is the least of the magizoologist's problems.

As they reach the door, Graves slides fingers between Scamander's legs and presses three into his hole. With all that's happened, Scamander still jumps at the contact. Graves feels the stream of come still gathered there, having temporarily plugged it in. Satisfied, he withdraws his fingers.

"A little souvenir," he says. In one swift motion of his hand, he drops Scamander's clothing into his arms, and, with the man dressed in nothing else, swings the blue coat over his shoulders. "Now get out."

He pushes Scamander out the door, into the hallway. 

"Oh and Mr. Scamander..." Scamander opens his mouth, presumably to beg once more for something pointless, but Graves cuts him off and deposits the suitcase at his feet.

"Welcome to America," he says with a grin, before slamming the door shut.

It's been a good day, but now he has to find something else to do to pass the time.


End file.
